The Draig's Choice

by Lisa Dawn Wadler

  Peter cocked his head to the side. “For the record, you may want to save the sexy talk for the women. He’s my nephew.”

  “Since I don’t have a bestie here, deal.” When he questioned the expression, she clarified. “Best friend.” Peter nodded in understanding. “I miss Rachel. She’d be able to work this through with me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Peter acknowledged, taking her hand in his. “What do you think she’d say?”

  “I believe she’d say I was incredibly foolish for jumping into a marriage with a man I’d known for a handful of days. Then she’d laugh and hug me and tell me it fit my patterns.” All the goodies I’ve said for her this morning.

  “Patterns?”

  Sarah blew out a heavy breath. “I have been known to take care of others before I take care of me. Like their happiness trumps mine in the deserving category.”

  “Oh, I thought this marriage would make you happy. I mean, you two are like magnets.” Peter completed with statement with a big wink.

  “Yeah, we are,” Sarah mumbled. For the first time since her arrival, the magical tingles didn’t override her concerns.

  “You sound overjoyed,” Peter quipped. “Yesterday you had tears running down your cheeks when Conall knelt before you and gave you the clan’s dagger. What did he say?”

  “Wear it always as a sign of my devotion to you. Let all know, I mean ken, that you are my wife by choice, the woman destined to stand by my side.” Unable to keep from smiling, she once again let that declaration wash over her. “Don’t get me wrong. That declaration made before most of the villagers is on top of the positive column.”

  “It should be, that was some public announcement.” Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Is he different behind closed doors? I know he dealt with more than he will ever share during the last ten years, but I refuse to let him take anything out on you.”

  “No, nothing like that. He’s even sweeter when we’re alone. Conall seems to want to share with me, to talk and to get to know each other better.”

  “Well that’s a plus,” Peter accentuated with a finger point. “Other than rushing in, what are the negatives?”

  Chewing on her lip to stall, Sarah then blurted out, “I heard him tell you and Evan he only married me to make the Bruce happy. Not exactly warm and fuzzy.” Sorry, Rachel, we didn’t get that far in my imaginary sharing.

  “What did Conall say when you asked him about that?”

  Pulling the oatmeal back in front of her, Sarah mushed it around with her spoon. “I haven’t gotten around to asking him yet.”

  Peter’s eyebrows wagged up and down. “Newlyweds tend not to talk much.”

  When she remained focused on the cold food, Peter asked, “Am I barking up the wrong tree? But wait a minute, didn’t you make a living telling people to talk about what’s bothering them?”

  Sarah groaned. “I’m way better at giving advice.”

  Pulling the bowl away from her, Peter laughed. “Would you rather be moody or have a direct answer?”

  “Depends on the answer,” she quipped.

  Peter bent down and rubbed the dog at her feet. “Help me out, Bella. How do I convince her that she’s nuts? Conall came back to life the instant you two stepped into our time. He practically drools every time she walks into the room. Not to mention that he can’t stop telling anyone who will listen how damn happy he is now that they’re married.”

  Her eyes rolled back in her head. “Enough, talk to me not the dog.”

  “Talk to your husband. That is, if you can keep your hands off him.” Peter laughed. “Was that close enough to girl talk?”

  Sarah shook her head. “Rachel would have been more obscene, but I appreciate the effort.”

  “Obscene? Yeah, I don’t want those details and I doubt Lena does either, she used to change his diapers.”

  “No details to share,” Sarah whined.

  “What? Really?” Peter sat straighter on the bench.

  “Well, we’ve. . . but. . . how much can I say to you?” Sarah stumbled, not sure her confidences were appropriate.

  Peter held up his hands. “I only need to know if there’s a problem, something like if he’s cruel. I won’t tolerate bad behavior towards you, public or private.”

  “Nothing like that.” Sarah gave him a reassuring smile as pieces clicked into place. I heard one crappy comment not made for my ears that I can address if I remember what it feels like to put on my big girl panties. In the back of her mind, she heard Rachel clapping.

  Debating on confessing her own insecurities again, she bit her lips to prevent laughing. Could it all be so simple? Am I that focused on it? Maybe I see problems where there aren’t any. Maybe he just sucks in bed with no ulterior motives of not wanting me or being selfish. If I taught him to kiss, I can handle the rest. It could be that this is a two birds with one stone scenario. No man would be that caring and considerate if he only wanted to appease someone else.

  Releasing her inner tension, she let it go with a cleansing sigh. “Maybe I read one too many romance novels.”

  Chapter 18

  Practically stomping her path down the corridor with Bella on her heels, Sarah let the humming in her skin guide the way. Without knocking, she entered the chamber Peter called the study to find Conall at the desk with several open ledgers. “We need to talk.”

  With only a hint of a smile, Conall held her gaze. “Aye, ‘tis fine you are here. We should begin the task of teaching you the keeping of the books.”

  Closing the solid wooden door behind her, she made her way to a chair and sat facing him. “Maybe in a bit, but first I need to know why you’re angry with me.” On the third day of their absurdly rushed marriage, he had avoided her like the plague.

  “I hold no anger.” His clipped answer did nothing to banish the notion.

  “Bullshit.” Conall’s eyebrows shot up at the profanity, so she knew she held his attention. “You disappeared on me last night, came to bed long after I was asleep and left before dawn. Why?” The recent behavior marked a huge difference from the first two days of married life.

  Conall gazed around the room rather than at her. “You needed peace, nay to be pestered with my needs.”

  Sarah closed her eyes and mentally counted to five. Deciding she need more, continued the silent count to fifteen. Given the combination of cramps and a fraying temper, she forced her mouth to keep the snarky at bay. “So, because I am menstruating you have no use for me.” When his jaw fell, she continued. “Because that’s how you are making me feel. I thought you wanted to build our relationship.”

  “Women who are. . . you are to be left alone.” His face flushed with the assertion.

  “Says who?” She leaned forward to prevent him from speaking, not really caring who gave him advice. “Granted, I would prefer to not have sex right now, but that doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me. Did you ask me how I felt or if I would appreciate some company, maybe a chance to know you better?”

  With a look that screamed guilty schoolboy, Conall ran a hand over his tied back hair. “I had thought you would prefer to contemplate the failure alone without fearing my reaction.”

  It had become her turn to stare with her mouth open in shock. “Excuse me? My failure?”

  His gaze swept over the ledgers on the desk. “I told you that I find no with fault you. ‘Tis mayhap for the best. The clan will ken any child you bear is mine.”

  Silently counting to twenty-five, Sarah sat mute. “Did you honestly believe that two nights would lead to me carrying your precious heir?” There it is, the snarky has been let loose. Of all the asinine notions. . .

  Conall stared at her as if seeing her for the first time in an unflattering light. “Many a bairn has been made on a wedding night. My grandfather, Michael, was such a bairn. If you have no wish for a bairn, why would you even agree to marry me?”

  Sarah stood and stepped over Bella. Pacing the chamber, she stopped in front of the door. “First of all, we never talked abo
ut children. People do that, they talk about what they want which is why they get to know each other before getting married. Second, how in the hell would anyone know what night they conceived, much less share that with their child?”

  Conall sat back in his chair with his features a mask of no emotion. He just cut me off, again. His voice spoke with no inflection. “My great-grandfather was to make an arranged marriage as the clan needed coin to pay the taxes, a dowry had been the goal. While traveling home and facing certain death, the woman he would come to love stepped through an impossible door to save him. They shared one night and then weeks passed before they were together again. Claire, my great-grandmother, found the deed to the mines that still make the Draig wealthy. She saved the clan from poison and then married my great-grandfather, Ian. Their child had been conceived on their first night.”

  Stunned by what had to be an incredibly abridged story, Sarah blew out a breath. “She was from my time.”

  “Aye.” His short reply remained, signaling his emotional distance from the conversation that had quickly morphed into potential argument territory.

  She had handled the situation poorly but Conall wasn’t giving her much to work with given his immediate tale of conception. “So, you’re angry that the same didn’t happen with us. That I didn’t have the decency to conceive.”

  “‘Tis nay anger, but. . .” His bland voice made her hide with her hands covering her face before running them back over her head and down the frizzy braid.

  “Conall, do you know that it can take a long time for a baby? So many factors have to be perfect and that doesn’t always happen right away.” Trying to be rational, she waited for his reply.

  He rose to his feet and stared at her. “We dinna have time. I would leave kenning you carried my child, an heir to replace me if needed.” Yet, he didn’t raise his voice. His tone remained measured and calm, far too emotionally distant for her comfort. “I had thought a woman of legend would meet every need of the clan.”

  And there’s the slap in the face that will make me lose my shit completely. “Gee, sweetie, so sorry to not measure up to your ancestors. Maybe you married the wrong woman.” The warm up to what would likely become an epic tirade ended as Peter threw open the door to the study.

  His ragged breathing came first. “We have a lone rider coming in as if the devil is on his heels.” With a glance to her, he added, “That means trouble.”

  “Stay here until I deem it safe.” Without more, Conall grabbed his sword from its perch near the desk and ran from the chamber with Peter behind and Bella chasing the commotion.

  Not willing to wait, Sarah lifted her skirts and ran to follow. Racing down the corridor, the men ran outside into the gray afternoon. She stopped in her tracks as a lone rider rode at a breakneck speed past the open gates. The horse reared to a halt and her gaze locked on the blood covering the man who practically fell from the exhausted beast.

  From her side, Bella growled and she quickly called her to heel. Conall reached the man’s side first and wrapped an arm around him before he fell to the ground.

  The man, who appeared to be older than Conall, maybe around forty or so she guessed, stared in shock. “Conall, ‘tis you, lad? Do you remember me, I am Simon, a messenger from the mines?”

  “Aye, Simon. ‘Tis fine to be recalled. What happened?” All the while Conall’s gaze wandered the blood covering the man’s shirt. “Nay, dinna speak ‘til we get you inside.”

  With the argument forgotten, Sarah turned and ran to the door of the keep. Yelling for Lena, she stepped aside to allow the men to pass and followed them to the nearest bench, where Conall sat Simon before pulling away the man’s shirt.

  “You took a blade to your side and the wound needs stitching. Where are the others?” Conall pressed the ruined shirt to staunch the flow of blood.

  Simon winced and exhaled slowly. “We were attacked on the way here. As decided ages ago, we split up to divide the attack. I managed to strike down the one who followed me but nay before harm. The others on my trail fell for the ruse.”

  Before Sarah could question, Peter explained the ploy to her. “Simon is charged with delivering shipments from the silver mines. It has long been planned that should the trio riding be set upon, that the riders split up. Each man carries a part of the shipment along with a small bag of loose coin to throw on the trail to hopefully prevent a greater loss.”

  Simon stared in her direction and Conall introduced her. “Simon, ‘tis my wife, Sarah.” Despite her panic and fear for the man bleeding in the hall, she didn’t miss the lack of pleasure in how Conall introduced her.

  Despite his injury, the man smiled and nodded. “You move fast, lad. Home for only a few moons and already wed. ‘Tis fine to ken we have peace with your clan, Lady Sarah.”

  “She is nay a Campbell. ‘Tis a tale that shall be shared but ken I married by choice as my ancestors have done before me. My wife bears my dagger and is the one I wanted above all.” Conall’s explanation warmed her heart and had the wounded man chuckling even as pain clouded his eyes. But when Conall’s green gaze met hers, no heat shown within.

  “Well done, lad. I mean, Laird.”

  Lena ran into the hall with her arms loaded and Sarah moved to take the bowl of water and clean clothes. Setting everything on the table, she stepped aside to allow the woman to begin cleaning the wound. “Welcome back, Simon. If you wished to see me ‘twas nay need to bleed, a simple greeting would have sufficed.”

  Simon winked at her and turned away from the view to his injury. “A scratch, nay more.”

  Lena snorted and Conall sat down beside the man. “Tell me what happened.”

  Simon began with the assumption of being followed and the three men changing trails only to be certain of pursuit. Descriptions of where the attack began made no sense to her, given that it involved landmarks and clan borders, not as easy to understand as intersections and towns along with a display on Google maps.

  When Simon finished, Conall rose and turned to face the several men who had gathered unnoticed to her at the main entry. He ordered for several more men to be summoned and then turned to her. “I must leave and track down the missing men and the shipment.”

  “What?” Sarah had no idea how that could even happen.

  “Those who stole from me must be found. I shall return as soon as I am able. Stay within the walls until I return.” Conall shouted orders and the hall burst with activity. Women scrambled and ran to the kitchens. Men yelled additional orders and she caught a call for horses to be readied.

  Attempting to follow the movements that appeared structured, as if everyone knew what to do but her, she stepped aside when several men dashed in front of her to speak with Conall.

  “Aye, I need seven men,” Conall replied and then bellowed for Evan.

  “I need your aid, Sarah,” Lena called over the din and Sarah turned to see Simon bleeding on top of one of the tables. “Hold the cloth to his wound while I prepare the needle.”

  Nodding mutely, she held the soaked cloth to the bloody mess and wondered if the rest of her life would be spent smelling the copper tinge of blood where she ate. Focusing on her task, she heard movements behind her and turned to find Conall and most of the men missing.

  “Get someone else to do this,” Peter demanded, clearly speaking to Lena. “She needs to be in the courtyard. The clan needs to see Sarah send Conall off.”

  Lena nodded, and another pair of hands pushed hers away. Seeing Robena, Sarah attempted to smile but failed. “Thank you.” Placing her hand on Simon’s pale cheek, she held his worried gaze. “I’m leaving you in good hands and will be back to check on you in a few minutes. We can talk while they fix you up.” After all, the man had just been attacked, wounded, and had run for his life. Those were aspects she could work with and help him make peace with the horrible day. Dr. Sarah is in or will be once I figure out what the hell is going on.

  “You do me a great honor,” Simon mumbled, wincing as the
needle breached his skin.

  Sarah whipped her head around until she found another woman. “Find him something to dull the pain. Do we have anything like that?”

  “Aye, m’Lady. An herbal is being mixed.” The woman spoke, and Sarah had no idea who she was and didn’t have the time to find out. Details for later.

  When the woman didn’t move, she barked, “Then get it now, please.” With the sharp command, the woman lifted her skirts and ran for the kitchens.

  “Come with me,” Peter said, even as he pulled her arm outside and into the chaotic courtyard. Men called for weapons and chose horses being led out of the stables. The women ran to and fro with bags of what she presumed were food and animal skins that jostled with the squish of liquids. “You need to send him off with good wishes. I’m not going to make this better than it is. He’s going to attempt to track down armed thieves and bring back a small fortune in silver. Simon only carried one third of the shipment. This will be dangerous. I doubt the attack was random.”

  Sarah blinked and swallowed down her horror that threatened to make her physically sick. “Isn’t there someone who deals with this stuff, like a form of police?”

  Peter snorted. “Conall is the law on his lands. Given that he’s taking Evan, you just became the local ruler. Act like it.”

  Fisting her shaking hands, she searched the mass of movement until she found Conall standing next to a massive creature that resembled a horse. How in the hell did the day become so insane? Staring at Peter, she blurted out, “But we were in the middle of an argument.”

  “What?” Peter roared. “Then end it quickly. Swallow pride or whatever else needs to be done. Conall is about to jump into a dangerous chase. Don’t let him leave that way.”

  Nodding but not quite certain how to banish the nasty remarks she had spit in anger, or his harsh treatment, Sarah pushed her way through the crowd to find Conall talking to Evan. “Find a mount.”